


the search for justice

by Splintered_Star



Series: octopath characters [5]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief, Reference to Sexual Slavery, dead bodies, reference to canonical sexual violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 20:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splintered_Star/pseuds/Splintered_Star
Summary: They deal with the bodies in silence, because H'aanit cannot think of anything to say.





	the search for justice

They deal with the bodies in silence.

The man who killed Yusufa, who kept women as a slaves and then killed them - his corpse is stripped of its valuables and pushed into a ditch with his men. H'aanit deals with it herself. Primrose isn't interested.

H'aanit welcomes the duty. There is a fury boiling in her stomach that she is unaccustomed to, one that makes her more forceful than usual in dealing with the bodies.

They will feed new life, she thinks. Perhaps the first good thing they've ever done.

H'aanit is not unaware of the way the world is. She is not unaware that she has been protected from the worst of men by her master, by her trade, by her blade and by Linde. And yet, faced with this offense against justice, she is not afraid. She is /angry/.

She is in as wild a place as she has ever been, but there is no peace here. There is nothing but violence and imbalance, a gaping maw where justice has been wrenched out.

She wipes dirt off of her hands and returns to the others.

Primrose sits in the sand in front of the pile of rocks serving as Yusufa’s grave. Ophilia has, with permission, done the rites that supposedly ensure Yusufa’s entrance into the afterlife – permission in the form of a shrug and a muttered, ‘it can’t hurt’.

Primrose’s face is blank. It does not show the grief of Ophilia’s, or the gruff sorrow of Olberic’s, or the fury clawing at the inside of H’aanit’s ribcage. She is in this moment a beautiful painting, placid and unreal.

But still, she does not move from the grave of her friend.

Ophilia finishes the rites and sits in the sand nearby. Olberic, his hands rough from moving stones, sits off to the side. (Later, H’annit will be aware enough to notice how careful the older man is, always staying in Primrose’s field of vision and never touching her without permission, and she will love him for it.) H’aanit settles into the sand, her jaw tight. She wants to say something, but cannot think of what.

After a long moment, Primrose shifts to her feet. She looks over them all and her face is still calm.

“I appreciate your help today, but I’m sure you all have your own business to get to.” She brushes sand off of her dress. “So I’ll be going.”

H’aanit is on her feet before she realizes it. “I will aid you.” She says, without thinking.

Primrose smiles at her, and her mask cracks and shows the grief inside, and she glances back at the tomb. “You shouldn’t.”

H’aanit does not know what to say, cannot –

“Miss,” Olberic says, very calm. Primrose pauses. “I suspect your quarry and mine might run in similar circles. It may be advantageous to work together for a time.”

H’aanit mutters a blessing to whatever god Olberic believes in when Primrose narrows her eyes and then nods.

“Very well. You’ll have to keep up.”


End file.
